


Actions speak Louder.

by Anyanka77



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, F/M, He said it Twice, Poor Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:31:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10028420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anyanka77/pseuds/Anyanka77
Summary: Saw a tumblr post that just said "Tell me a story. Difficulty: No dialogue, only actions."So I revisited Molly again right after the TFP phone call. She haunts me.Everything had changed in that moment and yet nothing had. It was just all done. No point is dwelling or feeling anything about it. At least tomorrow had no chance of being worse.





	

Everything had changed in that moment and yet nothing had. It was just all done. No point is dwelling or feeling anything about it. At least tomorrow had no chance of being worse.

She stared at the phone, taking a few slow deep breaths. Trying desperately to make calm her breathing, to make the shaking stop. Willing her heart to slow down and just be calm. This was harder than it should be. It had to be done. It was a forgone conclusion, no turning back. She knew that it would happen one day, that a time would come when she had to answer that call, to talk, to say the one thing that was harder to say than anything she had ever said in her entire life. If only knowing made it any easier when it happened.

She tried one more time to take a slow deep breath and was finally successful, pulling her eyes away from her phone and going back to the cup of tea she had abandoned mid preparation. She let her fingers lightly tap the side of the kettle that was now far too cool. How long had that call been? How long had she been standing there weeping? How long had she been locked in stunned silence relearning how to breathe?

She reset the kettle to heat, watching the blue flames lick at the heat burnished copper bottom of the pot. Why had this been the day? Of all days, why today? It had been such a long, horrible day. A long, horrible, ordinary day. So why not be today, was today any better or worse than yesterday, was tomorrow  going to be worse than this. Any day where that call happened would be the worst day. So it was today.

Her eyes went back to the phone. It had been cruel. It had been heartless. It had been intentional and calculated and– She threw the phone across the room. Taking a sick satisfaction in the sharp crack of the screen breaking. Everything was breaking today. Why not the damn phone? She grabbed the mug next, using far too much force to shatter it in the sink causing a shard to jump and cut her arm.

She didn’t even feel it, just saw the slow steady line of blood sliding down to her knuckles. She just didn’t have it in her to feel. There was no coming back from that phone call. There was no way out.

He had made her say it. He needed her to say it. He has said it too. Twice. It was just something that had to be said. She meant it. He didn’t. It was done.

She carefully started to pick up the shards of mug and throw them away. She picked up the cracked phone and set it on the counter again. It was all done.


End file.
